



*! 



■ 



ON THE SHORES 



OF 



AN INLAND SEA. 



BY 



JAMES TEACKLE ; DENNIS. 



ILLUSTRATED. 




0f Wi 



r^^v 



PHILADELPHIA: 

PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 

189 5. 



Copyright, 1894, 

BY 

James Teackle Dennis. 






CONTENTS, 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

On the Wing 5 



CHAPTER II. 
The Passing of the Days 13 

CHAPTER III. 
A Pause in Flight 23 

CHAPTER IV. 

In an Old Nest. 31 

CHAPTER V. 
To Icy Barriers 41 

CHAPTER VI. 
To Warmer Climes 54 

CHAPTER VII. 

The Last Migration 64 



3 



ON THE SHORES 



OF 



AN INLAND SEA, 



CHAPTER I. 



ON THE WING. 



At last I had reached my destination : San Fran- 
cisco, — its steep hills covered with the magnificent 
architecture of the Golden State, — its streets 
thronged with Celestial pigtails and civilized close- 
cropped heads, — its bay filled with shipping from 
the far-off (but not so very far off, either, I sud- 
denly recollect) Orient, which should be the 
" Solent" here, — had been studied and traversed. 
The " Golden Gate" had begun to tarnish a little, 
the Cliff House and Seal Rocks were hardly worth 
a fifteenth visit, and the restless spirit that has 
invaded living beings, from protoplasmal flea to 

5 



6 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

thoughtful man, began to yearn for fresh sights 
and sounds. Where could I now turn — toward 
what lands ? Many places beckoned : the Yo- 
semite, Hawaii (Liliuokalani would have received 
and welcomed me, had I gone there, but I did not), 
Alaska — yes, at that word my heart leaped. I 
would go to Alaska. I was a little uncertain 
whether the "Si- wash" would prove to be a man 
or some sort of an animal; totem-poles as articles 
of religious faith were something with which I 
had no experience ; and while Utah had prepared 
me for polygamy, I had, as yet, no close contact 
with a religion of polyandry. It took just five 
seconds by the watch to make up my mind, and 
the next step was to secure my passage. That was 
by no means a hard task ; the season was nearly 
over, and I had no trouble. So within three days 
I found myself comfortably ensconced in an excel- 
lent state-room on the steamer Umatilla, speeding 
swiftly through the Golden Gate and heading 
toward the Pacific. Three days of steaming, 
with occasional glimpses of the coast, — Mendocino, 
with green fields breaking into yellow sands along 
its rugged, rolling slopes; the Columbia River, 
muddying with its turbid waters even the deep 



On the Wing. 7 

azure of the ocean for a dozen miles away from its 
mouth, — and the morning dawned to find us at 
Victoria, B. C. We were there only a few hours, — 
just time enough to visit the long, low government 
buildings and the business portion of the town, — 
and then steamed to Port Townsend, our last stop 
in the United States. Port Townsend has a street- 
railway, — at least the tracks are there, — and it is 
rumored that once every hour the car makes a 
trip. Of course, at such long intervals, it would 
be a small waste of time to ask your friend, to 
whom you are chatting on the corner, to " wait for 
the next car ;" he would grow hoary-headed while 
waiting, and would then have to be identified, 
when he reached home. So the car jogs along the 
even tenor of its way, unmindful whether the 
passengers take it or walk ; and as the " Port" 
is very tiny, that latter alternative does not seem 
to incommode any one. 

From the hills above the town there is a mag- 
nificent view over Puget Sound and down toward 
Seattle and Tacoma, — that is to say, the view is 
there, if you can only penetrate the vast volumes 
of smoke which roll down from the many fires 
among the forest-clad hills that encircle Puget 



8 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

Sound like strings of emeralds about a huge 
sapphire. 

One entertaining feature of Port Townsend is 
the " Poodle Dog," — a little restaurant where 
the best of Puget Sound oysters are obtainable : 
some persons object to them and call them " cop- 
pery" in taste, but to me they were most deli- 
cious. When you come to settle for them, you 
may find, however, that terrapin and canvas-back 
would be a cheap commodity by comparison. 
Here, too, we leave the Umatilla, which runs to 
Puget Sound ports, and change to the City of To- 
peka. She arrived about nine p.m., and I imme- 
diately secured my room — a large, comfortable one 
just forward of the main saloon entrance — and 
retired. 

The next morning found us again at Victoria ; 
and the military band at Esquimalt, just across the 
harbor, combined with the crack of rifles at target 
practice, played an accompaniment to our break- 
fast. We discharged our freight (and one of the 
crew, for being unruly) and then steamed swiftly 
through the Gulf of Georgia, the United States a 
dim, shadowy outline to the east, and the green 
hills of Vancouver rolling between us and the 



On the Wing. 



9 



greener Pacific to the west. Passengers on excur- 
sion steamers like the City of Topeka are seldom 
ceremonious, and very soon we felt like old friends. 
And as for the jolly, red-bearded captain, the 
entertaining pilot, and little "McGinty," our 
thoughtful steward, — had there been no other 




VIEW NEAR NANAIMO. 



individuals on board, they alone would have been 
equal to the emergency of the case. 

So the night fell, and with the next day noon 
we had a glimpse of Nanaimo, and by four p.m. 
dropped anchor in its coaling harbor, about ten 



10 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

miles north of the city, where we lay in close 
proximity to a British war-ship, whose grim can- 
non looked rather gruesome and altogether dan- 
gerous. 

Of course everybody went ashore, just to come 
to " close quarters" with the gigantic pines tower- 
ing up into the blue for thrice fifty feet; just to 
gaze across the panorama of sea and mountain, 
glazed into a dim, indefinable mistiness by the 
sunset shadows; just to stoop down and pull great 
bunches of " sweet clover," which is not clover at 
all, or any variety of it, but an herb which some- 
what resembles the plantain or mullein of our own 
fields, and from which the perfume " new-mown 
hay" is derived. 

Night, swift in this region, found us still coal- 
ing ; but by ten p.m. it was all aboard, and we 
started in earnest for our " latest acquisition." The 
next morning found us in " Discovery Passage," 
though what " discovery" was made there is un- 
told. Probably the fact that the first tourist who 
entered it came out alive had something to do with 
the name, for the channel is as winding, tortuous, 
and twisted as the methods of a political juggler; 
but the scenery is magnificent. We steam under 



On the Wing, 11 

the shadows of overhanging mountains, rounded 
into exquisite regularity by the weather, that sharp 
chisel of the sculptor Time, and covered with densest 
foliage, through which occasionally comes the gleam 
of a cleared field or a little house nestling close to 
the water's edge, as if half afraid that the hills 




VIEW IN SEYMOUR NARROWS. 



above might swoop down on it unawares. Beyond 
this channel, lies " Seymour Narrows," still more 
winding, and with an added danger in the strength 
of the current, which is estimated at fourteen 



12 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

knots per hour. So powerful is it that captains 
time their passage so as to reach this point at the 
hours of extreme flood or extreme ebb tide. We 
happened there at the latter time ; yet even then 
our steamer heeled over several degrees, as the cur- 
rent, after rushing in small whirlpools around the 
rocky headlands, struck fair under our bows and 
along our keel. After several experiences of this 
sort, no one grieved when the little light-house at 
the north end of the channel suddenly loomed up 
from behind a ridge of hills on the right ; and just 
as the sun set behind the curving Vancouver hills, 
we steamed into the broad waters of Johnstone 
Straits. 



The Passing of the Days. 13 



CHAPTER II. 

THE PASSING OF THE DAYS. 

A great many people find delight in wander- 
ing through ancient church-yards, deciphering the 
moss-grown inscriptions on crumbling tombstones 
and musing on the mutability of human life, — its 
hopes and fears, its achievements and failures. If 
such had formed a portion of our fellow-passen- 
gers, the next day would have proved a "red-letter 
day" in their history, and given them pabulum for 
months to come; for it brought us our first sight of 
a native cemetery, beautifully situated beneath the 
hills surrounding Alert Bay. The " Si- wash" (as 
the native Alaskan is called) takes delight in 
gaudy colors while alive ; and if to these artistic 
displays one adds some design that is positively 
hideous, — something that would cause the beholder 
to swear that the Medusa's head or the faces of " gor- 
gons, hydras and chimseras dire" were chaste and 
beautiful as a Venus or Aphrodite by comparison, 
— his native taste would be abundantly gratified. 



14 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

Perhaps it is something of the same feeling which 
causes their more civilized neighbors of the world 
- — the " fair sex" — to see beauty and grace in the 
latest malformations depicted in fashion-plates of 
recent date. However this may be, the Si-wash 
gives his dead the same privilege accorded to the 
living ; and as the defunct cannot habilitate him- 
self, his friends do it for him. Strips of colored 
cloth, flags, and all manner of outlandish decora- 
tions adorn the lowly graves, and are as certain 
signs of a cemetery, wherever met, as the rubi- 
cund nose of the confirmed toper is of the grave 
of buried manhood. At this particular ceme- 
tery, also, some artist, whose name I cannot pro- 
nounce (having never heard it), has designed a 
monstrosity in the shape of a wooden eagle (as 
"wooden" in its attitude as in its material part), 
perched upon the back of a whale or seal. Per- 
haps I was not well enough versed in ichthyology 
to decide exactly what sort of creature it did 
represent. Perhaps, also, it was some prophetic 
instinct of the " Behring Sea question" animating 
the carver. Whatever they were, there they stood, 
mute tribal totems that seemed as if they were the 
spirits of the olden days, still guarding the dust of 



The Passing of the Days. 15 

those of whose faiths they were the crude emblems 
and delineations. 

With the coming of the evening, we approached 
Queen Charlotte Sound, at the north end of Van- 
couver, opening into the Pacific; the first long 
swell of whose waters reached us soon after din- 
ner. And, strange to say, many of our passengers 
became suddenly "tired," and wanted to lie down. 
The " lassitude" which sea air begets is never more 
strongly shown than when there is a slight sea on ; 
everybody wants a rest. 

We had hardly left the shelter of the hills, how- 
ever, and steamed out into the Sound, when a 
genuine Alaskan fog came up, the first we had 
encountered. These fogs are like nothing one 
meets at home. With us, they come drifting, 
silent, swift, gradually thickening until surround- 
ing objects gleam dimly and damply ; here and in 
Alaska they come rolling down from mountain-top 
or across the waters in massive walls as of smoke 
from factory chimneys, wreathing, twisting, coil- 
ing as they approach, until they whirl around you, 
and the air becomes in an instant chill and vault- 
like, reminding one of death and the grave, and 
producing sensations akin to those one feels in the 



16 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

vaults of the Capuchin Monastery in Rome, 
among the skeleton remains of the brethren 
decorating wall and ceiling; and everybody was 
very glad to exchange the damp, chill deck and 
rugged face of nature for the warmth and light of 
the Topeka's cabin and the genial countenance of 
our courteous captain. 

The steamer turned back and anchored in a little 
harbor, which was evidently the crater of a vol- 
cano at some long-past period — Port Alexander, 
the pilot called it. We steamed up into the circu- 
lar harbor, past a peak of rock jutting up sheer 
and precipitous in the centre of the " crater," to 
within hardly a hundred yards from the shore, or 
rather edge, for there is no shore, properly speak- 
ing ; yet even there, eighteen fathoms of cable 
were run out before the anchor " took the ground." 
What a harbor ! Rugged, beetling, fire-scarred 
crags towered for hundreds of feet above us on all 
sides, save by the narrow channel wherethrough 
we had entered. Above, the wind roared and the 
fog swept in clouds of smoke-like vapor; below, 
we were as quiet as though in our own homes. 
What secrets the depths below us hold who can 
tell ? Even the government charts are exceedingly 



The Passing of the Days. 



17 



inaccurate as to topography and soundings ; one 
may approach the rocky shores — almost all being 
nearly perpendicular — to within a hundred feet, 
and yet find soundings of thirty to thirty-five fath- 
oms. As one of our passengers remarked, " If all 
this water could be drained off from Sitka to Vic- 
toria, we would have one great, big Yosemite Val- 
ley." And a Yosemite over four hundred miles 
long, at that ! What a chance for some De Les- 
seps ! If canals failed, he might turn his hand to 
erecting a dam here and there along the Alaskan 




IDOL OF HAYDAII INDIANS. 



coast, and give us another "National Park." But 
none will ever view those depths, nor learn what 
lies beneath those waters ; nor will mortal compu- 



18 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

tation of time measure the ages since Nature turned 
her hour-glass and allowed the Ocean God to usurp 
the throne of the Fire God. 

The next morning the sun rose bright and clear, 
and between the sunken reefs that lie scattered 
everywhere through the Sound the Topeka held 
her way northward. From here on the scenery 
changed. Instead of high, rolling hills, covered 
with a magnificent growth of timber, all inter- 
spersed with rich meadows, the earth becomes 
rocky and cragged ; verdure disappears, and in its 
place come short, stubby trees, their roots taking 
but weak hold of the mossy, spongy soil that edges 
the many water-ways leading in all directions, like 
the canals and dikes of Holland and Belgium. The 
mountains become sharp and pointed, all showing 
distinct volcanic action ; and nestling in their dark 
depths are dozens of little lakes, whose waters fall 
in silver dashings over the precipices that bound 
them into the blue waves below. 

In Queen Charlotte Sound, also, we sighted our 
first school of whales, from thenceforth to be our 
daily companions, until we became so accustomed 
to their appearance that sparrows around our dwell- 
ings would be more liable to excite our curiosity 



The Passing of the Days. 19 

and surprise. Nor were these pygmies, but huge 
cetaceans sixty or seventy feet in length, some so 
far off that only the dark line of their backs and 
the vapor made by their " blowing" revealed their 
presence ; others would rise within fifty feet of the 
steamer, their wet backs resembling big barrels, 
and leaving an oily deposit on the surface after they 
had descended. Occasionally one would " breach," 
— that is, stand on its head, with its tail and per- 
haps half its body out of the water, for a minute or 
two, and then suddenly plunge below with the speed 
of an express train. Man is not the only enemy 
of the whale, however. The captain had no part 
in arranging it, but nevertheless those whales gave 
us a gladiatorial contest before we were through 
with them, with the wide waters for the arena and 
a sword-fish for " retiarus," while one of the whales 
performed the part of swordsman. For fully five 
minutes the waters near us were in a whirling com- 
motion, the sword-fish often leaping entirely out of 
the water in order to stab his ponderous antago- 
nist, but every time to be foiled by a swift move- 
ment on the part of the assailed whale, which 
spouted as vigorously as a stump-speaker, and 
thrashed the waves with his huge tail something 



20 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

after the manner of a camp- meeting exhorter. But 
suddenly the commotion ceased ; either the whale 
had been pierced in a vital part or the sword-fish 
had given up the contest. The waters settled down, 
and we began to look for other excitements. The 
captain informed us that such a sight was a usual 
one in these waters. And just here let me insert 
an event that happened a few days later. We had 
been admiring the large growth of timber, when 
some one exclaimed " Look ! there's a whale 
ashore !" Sure enough, a mighty splashing, fol- 
lowed by the heave of a long, black body close 
along the beach, gave token of some unusual event, 
and we all watched eagerly. The whale did not 
seem to move; yet presently another splash was 
seen and heard, and another whale " bobbed up 
serenely from below" beside his mate. It seemed 
as if a family of whales were having a reunion 
there. But rounding a point of rock that lay be- 
tween them and us, we saw it all. Loggers were 
sending timber down the " chute ;" the " whales" 
were only logs, and their splashings were only the 
waves made by their ingress to the waters. Our 
" biological" passenger was seen no more until late 
in the evening. 



The Passing of the Days. 21 

We were rather surprised after dinner to be 
called to service, and a hasty consultation of the 
almanac informed us that the clay was Sunday ; so 
we accepted the invitation, and attended divine 
worship by the Rev. Dr. C , of Tacoma, a fel- 
low-passenger, whose sermon was, however, broken 
by numerous exits at every new view of interest 
or beauty. 

Monday dawned ; and at last our desires were 
gratified, and we had reached Alaska. Not a 
very imposing or interesting part of it; only a 
little custom-house on Mary's Island, — a neat 
little two-story structure ; but it looked quite 
" home-like" to see our own stars and stripes 
floating from the flag-pole. Here we embarked 

the custom-house official, Mr. M , whose chief 

duties seem to be to travel on the steamer, play 
cribbage, and impart information to the passen- 
gers ; and his great courtesy made him warm 
friends during the days we were together. An- 
other " duty" I recall is to see that no one brings 
any sort of liquors into the Territory. One of our 
passengers who landed at Juneau was obliged to 
leave his pocket-flask aboard until he should rejoin 
the steamer. On the ground that though a man 



22 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

may think harm to another, so long as he does no 
overt act of injury he is blameless (which is an 
excellent legal axiom), the residents of Alaska 
may, and do, manufacture all the liquor they want, 
but they must not import any. The idea is recom- 
mended to Governor Tillman as a change from 
State dispensaries, and surely it is a good " pro- 
tective" system. I saw but one intoxicated man 
in all Alaska, and he was not a native. 



A Pause in Flight. 23 



CHAPTER III. 



A PAUSE IN FLIGHT. 



The evening was approaching when we left 
Mary's Island, a little gem in its ocean setting, and 
a few hours' steaming brought us beneath the 
shadow of a mighty volcanic peak, cleft in twain 
at the top, and strongly resembling Vesuvius in 
general appearance, save that its sides are covered 
with trees and foliage, and have none of the grim 
blackness of the lava-clothed Italian giant; nor 
does the smoke and flame of Hadean fire roll and 
flash from the summit, for the crater is now a 
silvery lake, whose waters escape in a dashing cas- 
cade down the rocky pathway to the waves where- 
on we float. Nestling at its base, to the northwest, 
lies the little village of Port Chester, on Revilla- 
gigedo Island, otherwise known as New Metlah- 
kahtlah. This is the first place in Alaska where 
we were allowed to land, and the steamer had 
hardly anchored a quarter of a mile from shore, 
when we w r ere surrounded by dozens of native 



24 



On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 



canoes, some propelled by mere boys of ten or 
twelve years of age, managing them with the 




NEW METLAHKAHTLAH. 



dexterity of men, and evincing a long acquaint- 
ance with the instability of their craft. Every- 
body wanted to be first in getting a sight of the 
natives, but when one's nostrils become acquainted, 
curiosity is abundantly satisfied. Eye and ear 
may go further, but the nose — ah, no ! Our own 
boats were lowered, and we entered and were 
rowed ashore over waters so glassily clear that the 



A Pause in Flight. 25 

bottom at eighteen feet was plainly visible, covered 
with rocks and boulders, with myriads of fish 
swimming hither and thither. The natives re- 
mained on board, their canoes watched over by 
two or three boys. These canoes are long, round- 
bottomed, high at bow and stern, with a decided 
and frequent tendency to overturn at no provoca- 
tion, as I personally discovered later on. They are 
propelled by paddles ranging from three to five 
feet in length ; sometimes roughly made, but very 
often handsomely finished and painted. The 
natives are pleasant- looking individuals, with 
round, fat, chubby faces and very decided Mongo- 
lian features, and were dressed in rough but neat 
costumes of the civilized races ; sometimes wearing 
high hip boots, but more frequently barefoot. Not 
all the natives one meets, however, dress thus 
" fashionably." Up near Wrangel, and from 
there northward, the combinations of color and 
style would give the ordinary tailor and ladies' 
dress-maker an attack of apoplexy; and their 
manner of wearing certain articles of clothing 
appeals rather to the sense of the ludicrous than 
to that of the " eternal fitness" of things. Evi- 
dently tastes differ in different lands. 



26 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

The salmon cannery is the chief business in 
Port Chester, and annually seven hundred and 
fifty thousand cans are shipped from this port 
alone. But the interesting part of the town is 
the Mission, established by two Scotchmen, Mr. 
Duncan and Mr. McKay, to whom must be given 
credit for not only evangelizing but civilizing the 
natives. On addressing one of the Si-wash in 
"Chinook" (the name of the intertribal language), 
I was surprised by being answered in as excellent 
English as would be spoken in any city in the 
States, the old man taking evident pleasure in his 
proficiency of what was to him a strange tongue. 
I will admit also that his English was probably 
much better and purer than was my " Chinook." 
No one would think that, only a few years ago, 
these very men, now so polite and pleasant, were 
mere savages, who were driven out of their former 
home by British red tape, who went on the war- 
path and marked their steps with blood, and who 
finally, under the instructive leadership of the 
gentlemen above named, have renounced barbar- 
ism, adopted civilization, and have built the little 
town wherein they now live. But such is the 
case. 



A Pause in Flight. 27 

We left the wharf and wandered up the main 
"street" toward the mission buildings and the 
church, which stand near the centre of the town. 
The " streets" (so called) are wide and wet ; a row 
of planks constitutes the sidewalk, and, in spite 
of many large ditches, the whole surface of the 
ground is spongy and soft. Many beautiful wild 
flowers grow beside the foot-path ; but unless one 
can reach them from the board walk, he would be 
wiser to leave them alone. One of our party tried 
to gather some of the flowers, but only succeeded 
in sinking in the mud over his shoe-tops. The 
houses are pretty little structures of frame or 
logs. One of the most interesting features of their 
church is a painting on the western wall, done by 
a young native, representing the visit of the shep- 
herds to the infant Christ. This is a wonderful 
exhibition of atavism ; for though an Oriental 
subject is treated in a Christian style, yet the faces 
of all the personages — even the baby itself — have 
the identical traits and lineaments of the faces 
carved on the totem-poles, — large eyes, broad 
mouths, and general " wooden" appearance. The 
mission rooms are large, commodious and well 
ventilated. 



28 



On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 



Leaving the mission, we strolled along the 
beach, among throngs of dirty, mangy, half- 
starved dogs, and incidentally came across a native 
laundry. Soap, wash-tub, and the other articles 
which we deem necessaries in such cases are all 
superfluities to the native. Any ditch that has 
running water therein furnishes them a good tub, 




PADDLE AND WAR-CLUB, NEW METLAHKAHTLAH. 



and that is all that is needed. A large mat, made 
of woven grass and reeds, is laid in the bottom of 



A Pause in Flight. 29 

the ditch, the clothing (very much soiled) is piled 
thereon, and a barefoot " klutchman" (woman) 
steps into the middle of the pile, and laboriously 
wades around until they are a little damper, prob- 
ably, but certainly no cleaner, than before the 
operation. European washing houses, so numer- 
ous along the rivers in the various towns, might 
learn a lesson in cleanliness from the "klutch- 
man's" way of doing things. No ironing is neces- 
sary ; the sun does that for them. If " cleanliness 
is next to godliness," I suggest the advent of a 
few more missionaries and a dozen cases of strong 
soap, on hygienic grounds, if not religious ones. 

But the Topeka had hoisted her sailing flag, — a 
signal for " all aboard," — and taking leave of our 
new acquaintances, and also taking a fine stone 
battle-axe which I purchased of one of the older 
natives, we re-embarked, and were soon steaming 
away for Wrangel, but with eyes still turned 
back to the lights and shadows illumining the 
towering peak guarding the little semi-civilized 
charge beneath its feet. 

The proprietors of this steamship line have evi- 
dently a full appreciation of the needs of the inner 
man. Five meals a day, with pie for three meals, 



30 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

and fresh salmon and halibut ; these are but a few 
of the delicacies prepared for our supper the night 
we left Port Chester. Who blames one of our 
passengers, if an overweening fondness for pie 
caused a dearth of that article before we reached 
Sitka? 



J n an Old Nest. 31 



CHAPTEE IV. 



IN AN OLD NEST. 



When I awoke the next day we were in Fort 
Wrangel, for many years the most important town 
in Alaska, being situated near the mouth of the 
Stikeen River, the centre of the gold-mines. 
Even now the waters for many miles are colored 
and darkened by the detritus washed down by the 
Stikeen from the many " placer mines" along its 
course. Wrangel is named after an old Russian 
baron who first built and fortified it as a military 
post. Two of the old block-houses, with their 
second stories overhanging the lower, still remain 
to show the style of architecture necessary for 
those days of savagery and carnage. We hurried 
through breakfast in a manner calculated to highly 
astonish our digestions (if we have any left, after 
"McGinty's" plentiful combinations of good things) 
and hastened ashore to see the sights of this most 
curious village. Wrangel, since the gold fever has 



32 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

been cured (not the Keeley gold cure), has quieted 
down into a place whose chief attractions are its- 
totem-poles ; its chief features mud, rain, and fog ; 
and its chief business to cheat the innocent travel- 
ler. The totem-poles are the main sights of the 
town, and every one is well worth a visit, even 
those across the little inlet to the south, where the 




VIEW IN FORT WRANQEL. 



burying-ground is located. These totem-poles, are 
pillars of wood from twenty to one hundred feet 
high, some carved for their entire length, others 
only at the top, with all manner of fantastic shapes, 



\n an 



Old Nest. 33 



chiefly heads, though the eagle (whose head, origi- 
nally that of a bald eagle, has been so long 
exposed to the weather that mosses and small 
plants have taken root thereon, and give his bird- 
ship the appearance of a cat in the presence of a 
big dog), the whale (which is placed in front of 
the United States government buildings near the 
wharf), and the bear (with his footprints on the 
pole up which he is supposed to have climbed) are 
all fairly represented. The most curious thing 
about them is their history. They are not the 
work of those who now claim them ; when, where, 
or by whom made, or for what cause, is unknown. 
One very old Si-wash told me that he remembered, 
when a boy, forming one of a party who brought a 
totem-pole from a far-off spot — he knew not where 
— and planted it with great ceremony in front of 
the palace (?) of one of their chiefs, where it still 
remains. These totem-poles represent the geneal- 
ogy of the person before whose house they stand ; 
and being a sort of dii penates, it is almost impos- 
sible to buy one. The natives, however, spend 
their winter evenings manufacturing imitation ones 
in facsimile, to sell to summer tourists. The male 
line is never traced on these poles ; only the mater- 



34 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

nal line is recorded, — a peculiarity of many savage 
tribes, and one much easier to follow up ; for the 
male Alaskan is a strict monogynist — one wife he 
may have, and no more ; but the native female is 
alarmingly polyandrous, and her numerous hus- 
bands live together on the best of terms. The 
totem-poles are also used as repositories for the 
ashes of dead chiefs ; and in one I found a hollow 
place about six inches deep, filled with fragments 
of bone and fine dust, very likely the remains of 
some old, long- for gotten ruler. 

If you do not object to wading in mud over your 
shoe-tops, Wrangel will be a source of wonder and 
delight; and as a small space of beach, between the 
huts of the natives and the straits, constitutes the 
main " street," and a board walk up to the govern- 
ment buildings is the other " street," one cannot 
well lose his or her way. While wandering around, 
one of our party happened to pick up a handsome 
" potlatch" club, lying partly concealed in the grass. 
He bore it off in triumph, to the chagrin of three 
others, .who formed the exploring party. But 
hardly had that war-club gone a quarter of a mile, 
when the possessor (?) was approached by a Si-wash, 
who politely informed him that something about 






In an Old Nest. 35 

him was objectionable to the native gentleman's 
ideas. A colloquy in Chinook on the one part and 
English on the other followed, with very little 
being understood on either hand, until one of the 
party suggested, " Try him with a quarter." The 
hint was acted upon, and the native, his face 
wreathed in smiles, patted the " potlatch" club and 
pointed to the finder, bowing. We had no more 
accusations of petty larceny to contend against. 

It began to rain, and we returned to our steamer, 
only stopping for a few photographs of some of 
the handsomest totem-poles. They are not to be 
met with north of Wrangel, but here they are 
plentiful ; and, surrounded by the mist and rains 
so copious in this region, they seem grim sentinels 
of the nations who once reverenced them, and 
whose monuments they will still be, long after their 
present worshippers have mouldered in the earth. 

Wrangel is the only place where you can pur- 
chase the Alaskan garnet, — large, well-colored 
gems which the natives bring down to the wharf 
and sell at the low rate of two for a half-dime. 
One can also buy souvenir spoons of wood, carved 
by the natives, bead-work, seal-skins, medicine- 
men's charms, and, among other things, I recall a 



36 



On the Shores of an Inland Sea, 



handsome rug of the down of eagles' breasts for one 
hundred and twenty dollars ! But the traveller 




TOTEM-POLES, FORT WRANGEL. 



will find equally as handsome curiosities at Juneau 
and Sitka for less than half of what they cost in 
Wrangel ; and always, in Alaska, buy from the 
natives as much as possible ; they have a better 
assortment and are much cheaper than the stores. 



In an Old Nest. 37 

" If you don't see what you want, ask for it," will 
bring anything that it is possible to obtain in this 
country. 

We were curious to see the interior of a native 
house, so we opened the door of one of the largest 
and entered without presenting our cards. An old 
crone, whose age might have been over a century, 
hobbled toward us with some w T ooden spoons for 
sale ; but as we only wished to view, and not to buy, 
we declined. In the middle of the room, on a dirt 
floor, was a fire of wood, the smoke finding exit 
(finally) through a hole in the roof directly over it. 
Along two sides of the room were raised shelves, 
on one of which a girl was lying, while the other 
sides of the room, and the rafters, were hung with 
skins, old tins, old clothing, and all manner of 
wrecks and relics. The odors of decayed fish and 
filth were almost overpowering, — a skunk would 
have been fragrant by comparison, — and we left. 

We boarded the steamer and stood westwardly, 
through Duke of Clarence Straits, and reached 
Wrangel Narrows by dinner-time. These Nar- 
rows run for fifteen miles, the channels winding in 
all directions ; one moment our passage seemed to 
be barred by some huge black peak just ahead, 



38 



On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 




when suddenly a turn of the wheel would bring 

us to a channel to the 
right or left, past some 
grim mountain giant of 
rugged aspect and wild 
grandeur, or else by some 
|/g$\J^ low-lying island, whence 

flocks of wild geese, swans, 
and solitary eagles rose 
slowly, as we steamed 
past ; occasionally the 
howl of a wolf on the 
surrounding hills or the 
crackling underbrush un- 
der the stealthy step of 
a panther or lynx would 
mar the perfect stillness 
as we glided past along 
our forest-shadowed path- 
way leading ever north- 
ward. 

One peculiar appear- 
ance in these waters must 
be noted, — the wonderful 

reflections. Peaks twenty miles away would be 




TOTEM-POLE, FORT WKA.NGEL. 



In cm Old Nest. 39 

reflected in waves almost at the steamer's side ; 
and often we were deceived into believing that 
native villages or canoes of strange design were 
resting against the water-line, when it was only a 
reflection of some strange freak of nature in the 
formation of roots, stumps, and trees. These re- 
flections are perhaps as wonderful in their way as 
are the mirages of the Great Salt Lake and of the 
lonely valleys of the " Sangre de Cristo" range. 

For the last mile of the narrows our attention 
was attracted by a long range of broken, jagged 
peaks lying to the east, an occasional glimpse of 
whose snowy crests could be caught between the 
islands hampering our course. The steamer sud- 
denly rounded a low point of woods on our right, 
and there, before us, was a glorious panorama, un- 
surpassable, probably, anywhere on the continent. 
To the left — the sapphire of the seas a fitting set- 
ting for its emerald glories — towered a massive 
tree-clad mountain apparently two thousand feet 
high ; beyond, and at a distance of three miles, lay 
the waters, shining brightly under the lights of 
sunset, the distant shores white as snow with thou- 
sands of ice-floes and small bergs; while behind 
all, stretching as far as the eye could reach, their 



40 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

crests rough, fire-torn, and riven by long-dead 
volcanic action, their sides wrapped in a wind- 
ing-sheet of snow, lay the giants of the Alaskan 
range, " ancient as the stars that o'er them shine." 
But their crowning glory, — like the wreath to the 
bride, — rendered more impressive and beautiful by 
the tints of pearl, lilac, and pink reflected from 
their icy surfaces, still and peaceful in their grim 
defiles, through which they slowly wander to the 
waves below, lay the glaciers, — Baird's, Le Conte's, 
and Patterson's. Too awed to utter more than an 
occasional whisper, we stand and gaze, drinking 
in with eager eyes the fulness of beauty spread 
before us, until the shadows gather form and sub- 
stance, the gray fog settles down over the picture, 
and night falls upon us; yet not before we have 
photographed that scene upon memory's sensitive 
plate, — a " positive" in color, rather than a black 
negative, — to keep forever. 



To Icy Barriers, 



41 



CHAPTEE V. 



TO ICY BARRIERS. 



The next morning brought us to Juneau, the 
largest town in Alaska, situated on the slope of a 
high hill, which would be a mountain anywhere 
else than in this land of huge excrescences upon 
the face of nature. Beyond the town (which, with 
the exception of a few stores where one may buy 
curiosities, has nothing particularly interesting 




CARVED PIPE. 



about it) one finds a beautiful little glen, down 
which rushes and tumbles " Gold Creek," and a 
few miles beyond lies the " Basin," where fine 
specimens of "free gold" are mined. The " Bear's 
Den," situated above the town, was formerly one of 



42 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

the best-paying mines in the vicinity. Just across 
the channel from Juneau, and connected with it by 
a little steamer which runs every half-hour, is 
Douglas Island, whereon are the Treadwell gold- 
mines, using the greatest number of " stamps," or 
gold-quartz crushers, in the world, — two hundred 
and fifty of them, all working at once, and making 
so deafening an uproar that a man may shout his 
loudest with his mouth close to your ear, and yet 
you will be unable to distinguish one word. The 
annual output of this mine is about eight hundred 
thousand dollars' worth of gold. The ore is mined 
immediately back of the mills, and is conveyed by 
small steam cars to the crushers. After being 
ground up to an almost impalpable powder, the 
ore is carried down upon inclined planes covered 
with mercury, over which a constant stream of 
water runs. The mercury combines with the gold 
to form an amalgam ; the other portions of the ore 
are washed down by the water, to be afterwards 
used in the " roasting furnace," and the amalgam 
is pressed into balls and then sublimed, when the 
gold is left in the little crucibles and the mer- 
cury collected for future use. The smelting-rooms, 
roasting furnaces, department for chlorine treat- 



To Icy Barriers. 



43 



ment, assay- rooms, etc., are not open to the visitor; 
but by the kindness of one of our passengers, who 
was formerly in the employ of the Tread well Com- 
pany, I was permitted to see the entire works, and 
was agreeably entertained by several of the officials 
connected therewith. A promising vein of tellu- 
rium has lately been found near the mines. 

After leaving Juneau, we visited Loring, and 
saw the wreck of the ill-fated steamer Queen, 




NATIVE CANOE. 



which went ashore during a gale some time ago ; 
and then steamed to East Bay. Here we visited 



44 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

a " sweat-house," as it is called ; the native idea, 
I suppose, of a free dispensary or hospital. The 
" house" is of logs, chinked with mud, its contents 
being a pile of stones and a hole in the ground. 
The method of treatment is the same for all 
diseases : fill the hole with water, heat the stones 
and roll them into it. The steam soon fills the 
house, and when the half-boiled patient finally 
emerges, he runs down to the water's edge and 
plunges in. As a permanent cure for most dis- 
eases, it ranks very high ; but such treatment is 
apt to mar the future usefulness of the patient, 
besides aiding to increase the occupancy of the 
native cemetery. 

An interesting feature, also, to be seen here was 
a "salmon wheel." This wheel was made with 
several scoops of net, and was turned by the action 
of the current. The wheel is placed in the chan- 
nel-way of streams and left to its own devices. 
The unlucky salmon, ascending the stream to 
spawn, is caught up by the scoops and dropped 
over by the action of the wheel into a trough 
leading ashore, where the salmon canners come 
the next day and pick up as many as they wish, 
leaving the rest to die. Extinction of the salmon 



To Icy Barriers. 45 

is only a question of a few years, if the United 
States permit such methods of catching them to go 
unchecked. 

We passed Admiralty Island at night, and the 
next morning found us in Icy Straits, at the 
entrance to Glacier Bay. But the morning fog 
lay thick, like a veil upon the face of some lovely 
woman, hiding what lay beyond, and only allow- 
ing the imagination to wander at will, and people 
the unseen realms before us with forms of grace 
and beauty that nature has rarely attempted. 

The purser and myself spent half an hour in 
shooting at seals, otters, and other marine forms, 
which occasionally appeared dimly through the 
shadowy thickness ; and as the fog gathered closer 
and darker, our hopes of seeing the great glacier 
fell below zero ; for the captain said that unless the 
fog lifted by nine a.m. he would be compelled to go 
on to Sitka and leave the glacier unvisited. But by 
8.30 a.m. the fog did lift — over a magnificent view 
that surpassed even the mental paintings we had 
conjured up. To the right lay the rough moraine 
of the Muir Glacier, stretching northward to its 
progenitor, its slopes green with foliage and with 
fresh strawberries in profusion. To the left 



46 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

stretched league after league of snow-capped 
mountains, while afar the peaks of La Perouse, 
Crillon, and Fairweather gleamed white and for- 
bidding, yet, siren-like, beckoning to their snowy 
breasts. No traveller has reached Fairweather, I 
am informed ; and if he did so, the icy arms and 
bosom of the hard-hearted giantess might lull him 
to an eternal slumber. It struck me that if a man 
contemplated suicide, he might attempt the ascent 
of those mighty peaks, and make a daily record of 
his travel ; it would help science amazingly, and 
not be quite so " vulgar" as a pistol bullet in the 
head. 

From Icy Straits — beautiful but weirdly grue- 
some — we steamed slowly into Glacier Bay. The 
waters were flecked with ice-floes and even bergs of 
small magnitude " thick as autumnal leaves that 
strew the brooks of Vallombrosa," yet the air was 
balmy and warm as our spring-time. While the 
ice-floes were scarce, we steamed along fairly well ; 
but when they began to average from sixty to a hun- 
dred feet square, and covered every hundred yards 
of water, the captain " slowed down" — and then 
gave us an example of magnificent seamanship. 
Perched in the " cro' nest," his glasses always to 



To Icy Barriers, 47 

his eye, the captain sought out the clearest passage 
through the thousands of floes, and yet many a 
shock would quiver through the steamer, as she 
struck one of the smaller bergs, causing some of 




A BERG FROM THE " MUIR. 



the passengers to ask if the purser had any " nerve 
tonic" on board. If we had collided with any of 
the largest in our course, the probability is that 
we would have become speedily better acquainted 
with the soundings than are the United States gov- 
ernment charts. Up we steamed until admiration 
gave place to wonder, for before us there towered a 



48 On the Shores of an Inland Sea, 

gigantic ice-river two miles in breadth and three 
hundred feet from the waves that thunder at its 
base to its rough, honey-combed summit, — the 
Muir Glacier ! Closer still the steamer approached 
its polished face, the roar of falling pinnacle and 
the splash of its descent into the waves coming ever 
and anon to our ears, until we anchored about a 
mile below the glacier, white as the superincum- 
bent snows where it had long been exposed to the 
air, yet bluer than Italian skies (which, by the 
way, are not one whit bluer than our own) where 
some newly-made berg had fallen from its aeon-old 
resting-place in the icy arms and upon the frozen 
breast of its glacier-mother — not a deep sea blue, 
nor yet a pale, washed-out shade ; but clear, fer- 
vent, vivid ; caught, j)erhaps, from the skies and 
seas of the long-gone tertiary days, before the ice 
age began its long carnival upon the world-wide 
summer-tide of the green earth. While we 
watched, before the anchor had hardly taken 
ground, a heavy report came booming over the 
waves, and a mass of snowy ice-pinnacles on the 
face of the glacier came tumbling and crashing 
into the waters beneath, — a fitting discharge of 
nature's minute-guns over the grave of the ages 



To Icy Barriers. 49 

dead and buried in the old glacier's icy record- 
chamber. A few moments more, and, with another 
heavy report, we saw a huge mass of ice three 
times as large as our steamer slowly slide down- 
ward and outward from the surrounding ice-mass. 
Its speed quickened, and then suddenly it toppled 
sheer over, striking the waters with a roar that 
would almost drown Niagara's hoarse thunder. A 
few score of " little pieces," weighing a hundred or 
two tons each, flashed downward like silver arrows, 
and all disappeared beneath the surface. We 
waited fully two minutes, and then, still seeing 
nothing of the new-made berg, almost gave up all 
hope of seeing it rise, in spite of the captain telling 
us to "Look well ; for he was a big one, and when 
he does come up it will be worth seeing." And it 
was. A sudden swelling was visible in the waters, 
a series of botryoidal formations, like soap in 
boiling, disturbed the serenity of the wavelets, 
and when it had attained a height of twenty or 
thirty feet, the mighty berg shot upward, with a 
roar as of a Kansas cyclone, from the centre of 
the mass, in a column of deepest sapphire, — up 
and up for fully a hundred feet above the glacier 
(itself three hundred feet above tide water), — only 



50 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

to fall back with another crash into the depths, to 
repeat the operation of rising and falling to a 
degree not even to be witnessed in the New York 
Stock Exchange, until finally it lay rocking gently 
on the swell created by its own labors, to drift out 
with the current which runs ever seaward from 
the glacier, until it mingles with the waters 
whence it sprang in the dim, unknowable past. 

By this time the boats were lowered, and every- 
body crowded in to go ashore, or rather to climb 
the moraine and from it to reach the top of the 
glacier. The glacier has not as yet achieved noto- 
riety as a means of rapid transit, but its deliberate 
movement gives am|)le time to view the scenery. A 
few years ago it extended fully a mile below its 
present frontage, and the " dying glacier" on its 
western side was one of its regular branches ; but 
the recession of the ice-walls has gradually sep- 
arated the main stream from its smaller branch, 
and now the " dying glacier" lies alone and is fast 
disappearing. We scrambled up the slippery side 
of the moraine and found ourselves on an undu- 
lating plain of wet mud and pebbles, our foot-path 
being a board walk laid over the surface. Origi- 
nally the board walk was continuous, but now (one 



To Icy Barriers. 51 

year after being placed in position) it is tilted in all 
directions, sometimes at an angle of sixty degrees, — 
sideways, endways, in some cases overturned. When 
one of the party asked the reason, we were as- 
tounded to learn that this apparent surface of earth 
and stones upon which we were walking was in re- 
ality the glacier itself; and in a few moments we 
were shown a " gash" through the crust which, on 
inspection, proved that beneath us lay solid ice two 
hundred feet thick, and the tilting of the walk was 
due to the erosion of the under surface of the ice 
and its consequent fluctuations above. Scrambling 
up little ice-cliffs and down the dainty little ice- 
valleys, we at last reached the clear, smooth (com- 
paratively speaking) crest of the main glacier. 

Words can but inadequately describe the view. 
Stretching for a hundred and seventy-six miles 
away into the interior, its distant portions lost amid 
the mists and rocks surrounding it, with its five 
branches resembling a giant hand outspread, lay 
the ice-river. To the east and west towered grim, 
dark mountain-peaks, while below us lay the blue 
waves of Glacier Bay, flecked with white bergs, 
amid which our steamer looked as small and in- 
significant as certain Senators appear to be on the 



52 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

floor of Congress at present. The difference in the 
comparison lies in the grandeur, sublimity, and 
beauty of the glacial forum, — details lacking in the 
" forum civile." 

Close beneath the east wall of the glacier a tur- 
bulent, muddy stream gushes forth, caused by the 
melting ice beneath the main body of the glacier, 
and which irresistibly bears onward with it the 
bergs, floes, and trees broken from or carried down 
by the huge ice-river. Several of our party 
climbed fully a mile beyond the spot where we 
decided to pause and wait (having a desire, on our 
part, for further " life, liberty, and the pursuit of 
happiness"), and, on returning, reported the sur- 
face to be very rough and honeycombed, with many 
huge crevices here and there, stretching downward 
too far for the eye to sound their depths. 

But we were not allowed to remain longer on 
this fairy shore of Wonderland, and, rejoining our 
steamer, with many a lingering glance at the cold- 
hearted giant, we steamed slowly "backward o'er 
the shining track," with the glacier sending its 
parting salutes after us, as if the powers and forces 
of nature were hurling their ammunition and thun- 
ders from the crumbling ice-fort against the un- 



To Icy Barriers. 53 

availing weakness of frail humanity for daring to 
intrude upon the " Temple courts where Time 
holds rudest sway." After all, the glacier has a 
very cold and unapproachable manner, and does 
not allow one ever to become very intimate with 
his affairs. 



54 On the Shores of an Inland Sea, 



CHAPTEE VI. 



TO WARMER CLIMES. 



Under a warm, bright sun, we steamed slowly 
back through the white and azure bergs dotting 
Glacier Bay, down past Icy Straits, and so to Kil- 
lisnoo, which we reached late at night. The next 
day — Sunday — we were all ashore early, for we 
heard that there would be services in the Greek 
Church here, — one of the three in the United 
States, — and we all, I think, were rather curious 
to see the form of worship which composes the 
national belief of a large quota of the world's civ- 
ilization. 

The most prominent attribute of Killisnoo is 
its smell, — not a large variety thereof, but one 
long - continued, everywhere -permeating odor of 
dead fish. The presence of the factory of the 
American and Alaskan Fish Guano Company is 
certified to long before the eye takes cognizance 
thereof. Here, as at all other Alaskan ports, the 
wharfmen, stevedores, loafers, and inhabitants gen- 



To Warmer Climes. 55 

erally are native Si- wash, with a very slight 
sprinkling of American and European (chiefly 
Russian) faces. Here, too, I saw my first " widow." 
Ignorance sometimes causes bad blunders, and 
when I first saw this woman, with one-half of a 
very dirty face painted in deepest black, I 
imagined she was a " belle" who had chosen that 
method of adding to her charms. I speak ad- 
visedly there, for anything that would alter the 
natural appearance of most of these women could 
be considered a decided improvement on nature. 
But, on investigation, I found that, like the crape 
veil of her civilized sisters, it was the badge of 
mourning universally adopted among the Hay- 
dahs, Thlinkets, Yakutats, and other native tribes. 
Strange, is it not, that the sombre shadows of the 
tomb shed their blackness over the faces of both 
civilized and uncivilized people ? 

Another caprice of the natives, which I first 
observed here and often thereafter in Sitka, was 
the " labret." This is entirely a matter of orna- 
ment, and is generally confined to the women, 
though I saw a few men indulging in the practice. 
A hole is bored through the under lip, something 
after the manner of the Botocudo Indians of Brazil 



56 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

(than whom not even the most ill-favored Si-wash 
is more homely), and in this hole is inserted what- 
ever the fancy of the wearer dictates. On one 
occasion I noticed three or four teeth, evidently 
procured from the mouth behind them, all inserted 
into the one hole, which must have measured half 
an inch in diameter. Usually, pieces of carved 
and painted wood or bone fill up the aperture. 
As a rare method of adornment it stands alone; 
may it long continue to be worn only by those 
now using it. 

There is one other noteworthy thing about Kil- 
lisnoo, and that is the presence of " Saginaw Jake," 
claimant to the " throne," and a " hiyu-tyee" 
(which may be translated " big gun") in his own 
estimation, which he cheerfully and frequently ex- 
presses, and a nuisance in the opinion of every- 
body else, which they are ready to give with equal 
cheerfulness and frequency. " Jake" really has 
some claims to greatness. He was formerly the 
" delait-tyee" (chieftain) of the tribe, and suc- 
ceeded in stirring them up to war against a very 
insignificant portion of the world called the United 
States, with the result that he was soon in irons 
and " under hatches" on board a paltry little craft 



To Warmer Climes. 



57 



called the Saginaw (whence his title of " Saginaw 
Jake"), belonging to the very small nation re- 
ferred to, and was held some time as a hostage 
for the good behavior of his people. On being 
finally released, he found himself, like his mod- 
ern representative, Coxey, minus his followers, 
and generally " out of a job," and his " palace" 
and position usurped by another aspirant for royal 
and military honors. Unable to exercise his war- 
like powers, " Jake" erected an enormous eagle on 




STONE IDOLS. 



what he termed his " skookum-illahee" (" palace" 
would hardly suit the modest building), with an 
escutcheon and a few lines of doggerel, evidently 
composed by some wag on board the Saginaw, in 



58 On the Shores of an Inland Sea, 

which his claims to chiefhood were asserted. His 
rival, not to be outdone, painted a still handsomer 
" coat of arms" (?), announcing his claims in other 
verses, and nailed them over his door. The two 
rivals live peacefully within a few steps of one an- 
other. "Jake" weighs at least two hundred and 
twenty-five pounds, and is correspondingly fond of 
liquids whose strength only goes to increase the 
weakness of the imbiber. Recently his wife con- 
cluded to " break with him." Knowing his great 
credulity and superstition, she locked him out of 
doors one night, and told him the ghosts of his an- 
cestors would strike him dead if he dared to enter 
the door again in an intoxicated condition. The 
bibulous ex-chief built a ladder and climbed in 
through the second-story window (there were no 
windows on the ground floor), and then his faithful 
spouse told him that death would equally result if 
he left the house. Thereafter, for nearly two weeks 
" Jake" remained a prisoner in one room, and, as 
his wife had gone off with another husband, he was 
in danger of starving before help reached him, the 
neighbors fearing divine chastisement if they inter- 
fered. "Jake" would be called a "dude," if that 
word were incorporated into Chinook. He is the 



To Warmer Climes. 59 

possessor of more suits of clothes than an actor, 
and in the course of one morning I saw him ap- 
pear, first, down on the wharf, in a collection of 
rents and patches that would make even a scare- 
crow look naked and ashamed ; then followed a 
United States naval uniform (the worse for wear) ; 
soon a stalwart, brass-buttoned, blue-coated police- 
man, with a star as large as a breakfast plate on 
his breast, appeared ; it was " Jake." We went to 
the Greek Church, and lo ! "Jake" was there, 
acting the part of precentor, arrayed in a black 
Prince Albert reaching to his heels and a " stove- 
pipe" surmounting his abnormal cranium. I 
will not describe the church ; that in Sitka is 
much more ornate, but the general plan is the 
same. The services were in Russian (I presume), 
and w r ere interspersed by some very fair singing 
by the congregation. There were no seats ; every- 
body stood, the men on the right, the women to 
the left. In prayer, every one knelt. The ser- 
mon was delivered in Russian or some other 
language, and translated by a small boy into the 
native tongue. On entering, the worshippers cross 
themselves twice in good Catholic style. There is 
an American school near the church, which is 



60 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

prosperous and doing good work. While we were 
attending services, another portion of our passen- 
gers went fishing and secured a boat-load of hali- 
but, weighing from one hundred to one hundred 
and fifty pounds each. Think of it, ye followers 
of Izaak Walton ! 

Like every other town in Alaska, a large part 
of the population consists of dog, and a very mean 
dog at that, — a gaunt, sharp-eared, savage, wolfish 
variety of cur, whose great aim in life seems to be 
to get into a fight. But simply stoop as if to pick 
up a stone, and even Nancy Hanks could not catch 
them. They also amuse themselves fishing. Half- 
starved by their owners (when they have any), they 
subsist on fresh fish ; and when the tide goes out, 
leaving them in the many sinks and puddles along 
the shore, the dogs may be often seen dashing in 
and out of the shallows, to emerge at last with a 
fine, fat fish, which they proceed to eat raw. 

Leaving this malodorous but charming village 
(taking with me a very handsome stone idol pur- 
chased from one old " klutchinan," besides other 
curios), we slowly steamed away toward the sun- 
set, — toward Sitka, — toward the end. 

Our way lay through Peril Straits, though why 



To Warmer Climes. 61 

they should be so called is a mystery. It may be 
that, like Ulysses and the syren singers of the olden 
centuries, the first explorers dreaded lest the beauty 
around and about them should cause them to cease 
their wanderings and forget their homes, lingering 




IN PERIL STRAITS. 



amid its glowing mountains and wave-crested 
waters ; content that here, at last, man had found 
the entrance to a later Eden. 

The straits are studded with beautiful, tree-cov- 
ered islands, beyond which tower the snow-capped 
peaks of mountain ranges whereon the foot of man 



62 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

has not, nor ever can, leave its traces, — peaks 
glowing with pearl and pink and lilac as the sun- 
shine showers its gold upon them, — and we gaze 
until it seems a world of enchantment, and we 
ourselves but spirits. The St. Lawrence, with its 
boasted "Thousand Islands," cannot enter the lists 
with Peril Straits for grandeur and sublimity. 
Each mile brings other and newer vistas before 
us, each seeming fairer than that which preceded 
it, until one is bound to confess that all is so per- 
fect that there can be no better and no best, no 
fairer and no fairest. The land on our left, which 
appears part and parcel of the continent, is really 
Baranoff Island, whereon is the chief city and capi- 
tal of the Territory, — Sitka. 

I think there was but one disappointed individual 
aboard, and he surprised us all. He had been ex- 
amining the features of the country during the 
whole trip, and as he had said little or nothing 
about scenery, we expected wonderful language re- 
plete with poetry when utterance did come. And 
this is what he said, in broad Scotch, " Well, 
I'm if I ever saw a poorer country for sheep- 
raising." The Bible will furnish the missing 
word. Instead of admiring the beauty about us, 



To Warmer Climes. 63 

he was true to his shepherd instincts. The 
" ruling passion" is as strong in the breasts of 
the children of the Grampian Hills as it is in 
those whose pathway in life leads through Wall 
Street. 



64 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 



CHAPTER VII 



THE LAST MIGRATION. 



As we proceeded, under a golden evening sky, 
the hills gradually opened before us, at last ex- 
hibiting a broad strip of water stretching to the 
horizon, which our pilot said was the Pacific ; the 
huge mountain towering to the north-west, with the 
upper half of its grim sides a deep brick red from 
the lava, ashes, and scoriae that incrust it, and its 
lower half green with the foliage of meadows and 
the leaves of forests, is the recently extinct volcano 
Edgecumbe. In the general features surrounding 
it, it bears a close resemblance to Vesuvius; though 
the red upper portions of Edgecumbe are quite 
unlike the blackened, fire-embattled crags and 
clefts of its European brother. Soon the heavy 
report of a cannon, echoing along the surface of 
the wide waters, announced that we were approach- 
ing Sitka, and in a few moments a turn to the left 
brought us in sight of the Alaskan capital. Scat- 
tered along the water front to the north and east of 



The Last Migration. 65 

the town are the cabins of the natives, while just 
beyond the wharf is the " plaza," as we would call 
it were we in Mexico, with the government build- 
ings and stores on the right and the barracks on 




SITKA HARBOR AND EDGKCUMBE. 



the left. Directly in front is the Greek Church. 
A small eminence near the water's edge, behind 
the government buildings, is capped by a rough- 
looking structure, not at all imposing in its general 
appearance, but which has the honor of being the 
only genuine " castle" in the dominions of " Uncle 
Sam," — Baranoff Castle. Barren Castle would be 

5 



66 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

more appropriate. Unfortunately for tourists, 
within the present year this historic building has 
been reduced to ashes, and the only remains of it 
are probably in the possession of sight-seers and 
relic-hunters. Beyond the town, to the east, situ- 
ated on the little bay which bounds Sitka on the 
south, are the buildings of the Presbyterian Mis- 




BARANOFF CASTLE, SITKA. 



sion, now under the charge of Rev. Sheldon Jack- 
son ; while between the town and the Pacific lie a 
hundred little islands, — volcanic waifs, orphaned 
by the death of the subterranean fires within the 
breast of Edgecumbe, only twelve miles away ; 
and against their tiny rock barriers the ocean 
breakers dash ceaselessly, sending their musical 
rhythm in harmonious melody across the mile that 
separates them and us. 

As soon as the gang-plank can be thrown over, 
we disembark to see what we can ere daylight 



The Last Migration. 07 

closes. Baranoff Castle being nearest, two of us 
(the " kodak fiends," of course) climbed the steps 
leading up the little hill to the entrance of the castle. 
Built during the Russian occupation, it was for- 
merly a place of splendor; now it has a dilapidated, 
melancholy appearance, and would be an addition 
to a New York tenement-house exhibit. Why did 
not Chicago take up the " slums" of the American 
cities, and help along the cause of corrective moral 
principles in this direction ? Baranoff Castle and 
a few Si-wash shanties would have made a good 
nucleus. I am not going into details concerning 
Baron Baranoff and the transfer of the Territory 
to the United States, nor of the ghosts, nor Lady 
Franklin, nor the hundred other tales that every 
one knows. The rooms in the front of the castle 
were locked, and we could not enter ; but on the 
south side of the house we found some windows 
(minus the sashes), and with little difficulty 
climbed in and started on a tour of inspection. 
We found nothing either above or below stairs, 
except some gaudily papered rooms, with hand- 
some old cornices, decayed flooring, and numbers 
of spiders. The rooms are small, with exceedingly 
low ceilings, and I can but hold my peace regard- 



68 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

ing the very slight vestiges of architectural beauty 
here and there. They consist only of panels to 
certain doors, or a handsome niche or bit of dentil 
now and then. The view from the cupola, how- 
ever, is very fine, embracing the Sitkan archipelago 
and the mountain ranges far in the interior. 
Everybody registered his name and address in the 
Herald and Alaskan, — modest little newspapers, 
with very little paper and less news in their 
general make-up, — and soon thereafter returned to 
the Topeka. 

It seemed odd to be on deck at ten p.m. and 
find the glow of twilight as deep and vivid as 
it would be at home at eight. I was called out 
of my room by one of the passengers, in the 
" wee, sma' hours," to see my first arctic aurora. 
We are all familiar with its appearance in tem- 
perate latitudes ; but few can realize that the 
broad, glowing belt of color, flaming with pink, 
yellow, and green lights, changing shape and 
shade while we gaze, scintillating as if clouds of 
first magnitude stars were gathered into one long- 
extended Milky Way across the heavens, is the 
same substance with whose appearance we are so 
familiar. For fully half an hour did we watch 



The Last Migration. 69 

the glowing, shining ribbon bound across the dark 
forehead of the night, until suddenly, in the space 
of half a minute, not longer, it paled and faded 
and passed into nothingness, leaving earth, sky, 
and waters hushed and darkened, as if in the 
presence of the death-angel. 

The next morning our first thoughts were for 
the native quarter, and thither we turned our 
steps. We had not yet satiated our curiosity re- 
garding the usual sights and sounds of the Si-wash 
villages : rows of salmon hanging on long poles in 
front of the little cabins; huge black cakes of 
" muk-a-muk" (dried sea-weed pressed into blocks, 
and which takes the place of bread) lying on the 
damp earth, and used as a " door-mat" equally by 
dog and native ; canoes in all conditions of dilapi- 
dation, — these and a dozen other strange sights 
were as new to us still as a clean recruit would 
appear to "General" Coxey. The houses are 
numbered, but in rather a novel way, — by hun- 
dreds, and not by units. The second house 
from the wharf is numbered 200, the twenty- 
fourth house would be 2400, the very next 
one would be 2500, and so on. If the settle- 
ment contained more than the very small num- 



70 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

ber of houses actually in existence (about sixty), 
the above plan would be confusing, even to one 
who had mastered the tariff question. Here dwells 
" Princess Tom," an aged crone who attempts to 
inveigle the unwary into purchasing articles of 
utter uselessness at immoderate rates. Near by 
is the " illahee" of " Sitka Jake," the most noted 
and noteworthy of Alaskan carvers in wood or 
metal. From him or his brother one may pur- 
chase beautifully ornamented souvenir spoons of 
solid silver, carved by himself, at prices that would 
break a " penny bargain counter" in any civilized 
country. You can buy anything here from the 
natives, — odd V-shaped fish-hooks carved of wood, 
paddles, canes, — everything that the Alaskans use 
ordinarily, and that is illustrative of their daily 
life, can be purchased everywhere. At the ex- 
treme north end of the village several natives were 
busily engaged in completing the great war-canoe 
which formed part of the Alaskan exhibit at the 
World's Fair. 

By the time we had completed our tour of the 
native quarter we were ready to visit the Greek 
Church ; and, retracing our steps, we soon came to 
that edifice. The building is erected in the form 



The Last Migration. 71 

of the Greek cross, and is surmounted by a tower 
containing a town clock (which marks one certain 
fixed hour with its single hand) and a chime of 
bells, sent from St. Petersburg when the Territory 
was still a Russian province. Within, the scene 
changes ; instead of the rough, boarded exterior, 
we find a light, airy, beautiful little structure, 
adorned with paintings, some of them of rare merit, 
and claimed to be works from the hands of those 
great artists of the Eastern hemisphere who have 
added so much to the galleries of Antwerp, the 
Louvre, Dresden, and the Italian jmlaces. There 
was one method of adding to (or, in my opinion, 
detracting from) the beauty of the pictures in sev- 
eral cases, — a method up to that time unknown to 
me, but with which I have since become familiar 
in several of the European galleries, — I refer to 
the covering up of every portion of a picture with 
repousse sheets of gold and silver, save where 
hands, face, and feet appear. It is rather incon- 
gruous to expect a tourist to admire a work of 
Raphael, when the only parts of the painting vis- 
ible are the flesh tints, the rest being hidden. If 
the gold and silver be solid, it may enhance in a 
slight degree the " bullion" worth of a picture 



72 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

in a massive gold frame; but lovers of Raphael 
would much rather see the glorious, deep-tinted 
canvas of his master-hand than the tawdry ac- 
companiments of gilt and silvered covering that 
hide his handiwork. 

We were not permitted to enter the " sanctum 
sanctorum" (although one of our number, at least, 
could have told of hidden mysteries within only 
those whose life is guided by the plumb, square, 
and level — even by the three " T" squares and the 
sword and buckler of the " red cross" — can ex- 
plain) ; but our guide, Mr. George Kostrometinoff, 
brought out for our inspection the various " relics" 
therein. They consisted of articles whereof Moses 
and the Aaronic priesthood were ignorant : mag- 
nificent garments of the clergy, every one embroid- 
ered in gold thread, on groundwork of " purple, 
scarlet, and fine linen," with mitres of royal dimen- 
sions, one of them containing an emerald two and 
one-half inches high by one inch broad, with a gold 
crucifix inlaid. If it happens to be genuine, it is 
worth a fortune; if glass (as I suspect), worthless. 
Here also are the " bridal crowns" placed upon the 
head of bride and groom who join life's army under 
the banner of the Greek Church. They are orna- 



The Last Migration. 



73 



merited (?) with imitation gems in glass, of rubies, 
sapphires, emeralds, etc. These priestly garments 
are similar in style to the robes that one would be 
shown, while wandering through the Vatican, as 
the regal robes of long-dead — almost forgotten — 
Popes and archbishops. 

The paintings are the most interesting features 
of the church. On the right and left of the nave 
are two little alcoves, or chapels, dedicated to 
special saints, in which are the choicest works of 




VIEW OF SITKA. 
(Permission of "Youths' Companion. 



art, Except for the three altars, the interior has 
no other ornamentation than the pictures, flam- 
beaux, and other accessories of priestly worship. 



74 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

Leaving the church, we went eastwardly through 
the town and along the shore of the bay until we 
reached the buildings of the Presbyterian Mission. 
Mr. A. E. Austin is at present in charge, and the 
study into • which we were ushered bears witness 
to the taste for beauty and curios which Mr. 
Austin possesses. The floors are adorned with 
handsome fur rugs ; the walls and shelves are 
ornamented with choice specimens of native work- 
manship interspersed with works of standard merit. 
The students are all bright, intelligent young men 
and girls, very different from their own people 
who dwell in the native quarter, and who have not, 
as yet, adopted civilization and its adjuncts. The 
various workshops and museum contain much that 
is interesting, exhibiting the advance made by the 
students over their normal semi-civilized state. 
The tools most used are the broken blades of 
knives, old ends of worn-out chisels, and rem- 
nants of other implements, which are fixed into 
wooden handles, bound with rawhide, and seem to 
do excellent work in the hands of their owners. 
In the carpenter-shop was a handsome door, repre- 
senting devil fish, reindeer, whales, and other 
totemic symbols, which a boy about twelve years 



The Last Jl r igration. 75 

of age was making as a part of the Columbian 
exhibit. 

A walk of about half a mile along the shore 
and through the dense green woods brought us to 
Indian River, a turbulent little stream which 
dashes down its rock-strewn pathway in swift 
endeavor to reach the quiescent waters at its 
mouth. A rustic bridge spans the stream, which 
is not over sixty yards wide. The chief sight, 
however, was not the beauty and peace of the 
scene, but the thousands of huge salmon flapping 
around in the ripples, and all intent on migrating 
to the head-waters of the river to spawn. I 
rolled up my sleeves, stepped from rock to rock 
until near the middle of the current, and, stooping- 
down, in a few moments I had caught several 
salmon two feet or more in length, — caught them 
with no other weapons than my own hands, — as 
they passed up-stream. It was a novel experience 
in fishing. Many of the fish had large gashes on 
their sides from the sharp edges of rock with 
which they had come in contact. 

But this was our last day in Sitka; the approach 
of sunset found us hastening on board ; and soon, 
amid the waving of hats and handkerchiefs, we 



76 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

steamed slowly out from the islet-filled bay, turned 
our backs upon grim Edgecumbe, and were finally 
started safely on our homeward way. The captain, 
however, did not intend us to leave Alaska without 
at least a glimpse of one other of its mighty ice- 
rivers, — the Davidson Glacier. It was about five 



CHILKAT BAY. 



o'clock the next morning when I was awakened by 
a loud rap at my door, and a gruff voice shouted, 
" If you want to see the glacier, come out ; we'll 
be passing it in a few minutes." The speed with 
which I (and probably every one else) dressed that 



The Last Migration. 77 

morning was astonishing. On leaving my state- 
room, I was met by a dense fog, — probably the 
gloomiest, most dismal sight I ever witnessed. 
Through the coiling wreaths I occasionally had a 
glimpse of some grim, black cliff, which was 
speedily swallowed up in smoke-like vapor. 
Hurrying to the upper deck, I found my fellow- 
travellers gazing out to the left, and in a few 
moments the fog broke and revealed the Davidson 
Glacier in all its majestic proportions. The waters 
beneath our hull are those of Chilkat Bay; to the 
right are sheer cliffs and precipices from seventeen 
hundred to twenty-one hundred feet high, and 
perpendicular from base to summit; and upon 
their rugged tops lie snow-banks from one hun- 
dred to five hundred feet in thickness. To the left 
lies the fan-shaped mass of the glacier; not so long 
as the Muir, but exceeding it by fully a mile in 
width, and of an equal height. Its face, however, 
does not impress one as does the Muir, for its 
terminal moraine obstructs the view. In the 
Muir, the frontage is directly in the waves ; in the 
Davidson, it ceases where the moraine begins. Yet, 
in spite of this, when one sees it for the first and 
last time in his life, wreathed around by " coiling 



78 On the Shores of an Inland Sea. 

clouds that melt like fume of shrines that steam," 
with a gray, stormy cloud overhead and the 
gloomy rocks and gloomier waters around and 
about it, it leaves impressions that cannot fade, 
any more than the giant rock-nurses that have 
watched over the glacier from its infancy in the 
by-gone ages of earth's history to its manhood — 
aye, and will watch its empty cradle long after the 
icy heart has melted and disappeared — will pass 
like dreams and visions of the night. Then the 
fog closes down, ghostly and solemn, and the 
Davidson Glacier, Chilkat, the rock cliffs, vanish 
from our sight. We turn away mournfully, as if 
some dear friend had left us, and silently we go 
down to the usual routine of steamer life. 

So we glide on, backward to the scenes visited so 
recently, speaking the steamer City of Mexico 
on her northward trip; southward, until fair faces 
greet us instead of the scowling visages of the Si- 
wash ; until summer-tide takes us by the hand and 
leads our thoughts away from ice-rivers and gloomy 
snow-fields ; until the past fades and the present 
comes to cheer and bless us, and Alaska — golden, 
sunny, fair, muddy, gloomy, stormy, contradictory 
Alaska — seems more a fairy dream — a realization 



T/te Last Migration. 79 

of the mythic Hesperides — the lost Atlantis — the 
fabled Eden — than a reality ; and not only a part 
and parcel of this little planet, but also — our 
country ! 



THE END. 



.* - 









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